Drugs
by CanaanAlshea
Summary: Kink Alphabet-Bakura Finds Himself Vulnerable To Yami's Control
Bakura was lying on his bed, tracing strange shapes in the air. He'd been humming and muttering to himself for some time, quite unaware of his nudity as Yami, the once great pharaoh, loomed over him. "Having fun?" his voice was thick with false sweetness.

"It's…pretty," Bakura sighed, not hearing the click of the lock, "So pretty…" He tried to sit up, head lolling sideways and falling back against the headboard. He was somehow aware of his nudity, but found himself tracing self inflicted scars he'd never before revealed to anyone. Certainly not his enemy… But wasn't everyone his enemy?

"Bakura," Yami spoke matter of factly, "You've caused a lot of trouble for me in this time, and the time before this, when we were men of the ancients. Do you remember?"

"Yes," Bakura sighed, hands twisting, too-thin arms raised above him, "I remember. I remember robbing you. And how disappointing it was, those trinkets I found…!" he laughed then, the sound of a man on the brink of insanity.

"Yes," Yami said pleasantly, sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with the laces of the thief's boots, "And much of what you stole once belonged to me…do you remember?"

"Hmmm," Bakura smiled, dazed, nodding, "Yes…so many valuables for a dead person…! What did you need it for anyway?"

"Oh I didn't," the pharaoh whispered, gently, gently pulling Bakura's pants down past his knees and ankles, tossing them on the floor, "I didn't need them…but they did not belong to you, did they?"

Bakura shook his head, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow as more of his pale skin was revealed, "Where's…Ryou?" he sighed, "Is my Yadonushi okay?"

"He's fine," Yami spoke calmly, methodically removing clothing piece by piece, "He has no idea where you are…but he should be sleeping now, no? It's a school night…"

"Right," Bakura nodded, biting his lip, "Those in this time have such an odd way of keeping their days, don't you think, Yami-sama?"

"They do indeed," Yami smiled, leaning down, kissing the pale span of an inner thigh, the back of his knee, his concave stomach, "Don't you eat, Thief?"

"I'm never hungry," Bakura sighed, tongue fighting to keep up with his mind, "I'm…I don't like food…" His head jerked to the side, eyes widening, "What-what are you doing?!"

"Shhh," pharaoh soothed, massaging the prominent ribcage, the jutting hip bones, "so, you don't indulge in modern foods, Thief King?"

"I have no need," Bakura sighed, struggling weakly, trying to close his legs against the firm shoulders, "I'm…never hungry. I don't know what it feels like. Yadonushi tells me I should eat but it makes me sick-" He clapped a pale hand over his mouth, eyes widening as if he'd just told a secret, "Apparently," he whispered, "This is unusual…Yami-Sama?"

"Why are you calling me that now, Thief?" Yami grinned, biting that delicate hip and thigh, massaging his calves.

"What did you give me, Pharoah?" Now Bakura spat it as an insult, arms raising slightly and dropping over his head, large crimson eyes searching the ceiling. "Nothing addictive," Yami whispered, almost reassuring, "Just a bit of Rohypnol to soothe you, some muscle relaxers to make you…pliant," he yanked those white legs apart pointedly, "Look how willing you are now, Bakura-chan…"

"I don't," Bakura swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering what the blurring in his vision was, the unusual heaviness, "I don't want you to do that…!"

"Shhh," the man was tracing his stomach and groin, pinching, pulling, hurting…!

"Ryou-!"

"Ryou won't know," Yami whispered, "If you don't tell him…he has no idea…"

The haze was not lifting. Bakura only knew he was in pain, and that, somehow, he was embarrassed by Yami's eyes on him. He rolled his head, his neck limber and limbs fluid. He felt his body being moved up and sideways. The heat of lips upon his throat, soft murmuring against his jutting collar bone.

"I don't want this…" he whispered; perhaps more to himself than anyone else.

"I know," Yami's face was a blur before he felt the searing pain, certain he arched away from it. The room and colors spun together, keeping him in the wave of confusion and cold sweat of anxiety. He wondered if the gods would allow him to pass out.


End file.
